


Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things

by Icarusdusoleil



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Furiosa gets introspective, Gen, Max may be immortal?, Platonic Life Partners, Post-Mad Max: Fury Road, Road Trips, They find a dog and name it Dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarusdusoleil/pseuds/Icarusdusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa finds herself getting increasingly restless and leaves the Citadel behind for a long trip with Max. He has a destination in mind, but sometimes the journey is more important than the destination itself. As they drive through the deserted wastes, Furiosa learns a lot about Max and herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Max returned to the Citadel.

He had been gone for over a year. He used to stop in every few months, bringing in some spare parts for trade and even the occasional refugee. He’d spend a day or two at the Citadel, following Furiosa around and helping her with odd jobs here and there. Then he would take some supplies and leave just as quickly as he came. The longest he ever stayed was a week, but only because his Interceptor had been totaled. He never explained how it happened.

The girls always wanted stories, but he only gave his twitchy shrug and mumbled something under his breath. He had always been distant and holding a conversation was like pulling teeth, but the longer he spent out in the wastes, the less together he seemed.

“Why don’t you ever stay?”Cheedo asked him during one of his short visits, but Max avoided the question just as deftly as he avoided all of the other questions.

Furiosa wanted to ask him the same question and many more. Why did he always leave? Where did he go? Why was he gone so long? But she kept her questions to himself and just relished the time he spent with them.

“Welcome back,” she greeted him and held out her hand. He didn’t meet her eye as he stepped forward and touched his forehead with hers. She placed her hand on the back of his head and breathed in as his hand brushed over her hair. He smelled like guzzoline, smoke, and sand.

“It’s been a while,” she said quietly.

Max pulled away quickly and nodded. He turned to his car and gestured to the back seat, “I got… some uh… supplies. And things… and uh…” His voice sounded rusty and hoarse, but it was good to hear him speak.

The rest of the day was a flurry of motion as the girls greeted Max and took him around the Citadel, showing off the improvements over the past year. Furiosa followed as they walked up and down the stairs of the three towers, talking the whole time. Max listened politely and seemed genuinely interested in how things had been going during his absence. He looked pleased to see that they were all doing well, but Furiosa could tell that he was getting tired and itching to escape again.

Eventually, the girls went off to their duties and Furiosa lost track of Max as he ducked away and into the maze-like passages of the Citadel. Guessing that he had made his way back to his car, she stopped by the mess hall to pick up some thick root soup on the chance that he was hungry. She made her way down to the car port where the black thumbs were bustling around and cleaning up for the night. The sun had dropped just below the horizon by the time she found Max tinkering under the Interceptor’s hood.

Furiosa knocked on the side of the car and watched as Max jumped and banged his head on the underside of his car. He let out a quiet curse and crawled out from under the hood. With a smirk, she held up the now cold bowl of soup. Max stood, wiped his hands on his pants, and took the bowl with an appreciative nod.

They sat together on the hood of the Interceptor and silently watched the golden sun sink below the sands in the distance as Max ate the soup. The three towers cast a long shadow and a deep blue darkness began to creep upon them. Slowly, lights flickered on and twinkled in the other mesas. Furiosa enjoyed the twilight, because the Citadel looked like it was filled with stars.

Furiosa and Max wordlessly sat side by side for a long time after the last of the black thumbs had left the garage. They didn’t speak—they didn’t really have to—and they just enjoyed each other’s company. She listened to the even sound of his breathing and felt truly comfortable.

Max glanced at her, then made a low noise in the back of his throat and set the empty bowl aside before he slid off the hood of the car. Furiosa watched curiously as he leaned into the car and began rummaging around.

He made a soft sound of triumph and pulled himself out of the car, holding a very peculiar looking white object in his hand. He passed it to her and she gently turned it over in her hands. At first, she thought it was a sword, because it was almost as long as her arm and very thin. But she very quickly realized it was actually a skull of some sort. Furiosa looked up at him quizzically.

“Pelican,” Max said.

“A what?”

“A… it’s a… it’s a bird,” He held out his arms as if show the size of the creature and Furiosa couldn’t imagine a bird that large. The crows that she had seen were small and mangy, but this animal was massive in comparison.

She opened her mouth to ask where he had found it, but he quirked a smile and began to recite, “A funny old bird is the pelican, his beak can hold more than his belican. Food for a week, he can hold in his beak, but I don’t know how the helican.”

A moment of stunned silence passed and Max ducked his head in embarrassment. That was the most words she had ever heard him string together, and she had never heard him say something so strange. It took her by surprise and she burst out laughing.

He chuckled along and she asked, “Where the hell did that come from?”

With a shrug, he took the skull back and poked his finger through one of the eye sockets. He peered at her sheepishly out of the corner of his eye and Furiosa kept her smile. He straightened his back and gestured with the beak of the skull, “I found it... West. Far, far West.”

Furiosa considered that statement and a million questions raced through her mind. She thought of Cheedo, so earnestly asking why he never stayed. She tried to keep her questions to herself and respect his privacy… but she didn’t want to sit in silence anymore.

“Where do you go?” Furiosa asked tentatively.

He looked up from the bird skull and stared at her curiously. She tried again, “When you’re not here, where do you go? What do you do?”

Max’s eyes flicked away from her face and searched the room, as if looking for a way to avoid answering the questions. He licked his lips nervously and pulled his shoulders up. Furiosa sighed and looked away. It was black outside and the stars twinkled just as brightly as the lights in the Citadel. The moon was just a sliver of a smile low in the sky.

“Anywhere,” Max’s voice was quiet and halting, but he spoke. Furiosa turned back to him and Max’s gaze was distant. “Anywhere… and everywhere. I go… I get away from the voices and… and… faces.”

Max looked down at the skull and his shaking hands, “I… go where my car takes me. To see things. Maybe help people… To forget.”

 _To forget_.

Furiosa leaned back onto the windshield and closed her eyes. She felt like she had known Max for a lifetime, but she really knew very little about him. They both had lives long before they met. What his must have been like to produce a man like that. Furiosa shook her head, “Why don’t you stay?”

He turned to her sharply with an expression that was almost accusatory. It made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t back down. She wanted to know. After a moment, he spoke again, “Cage. It’s like…” He made a tight gesture with his hands, his fingers forming claws that before intertwining and coming together as if he was crushing something between his palms. Then he turned away and seemed to fold in on himself.

Max’s gestures were often more eloquent than his actual speech, and this gesture was no different. Furiosa knew that feeling of being captive, and the restlessness and anxiousness that came with it. Despite the Citadel being her home now, it still felt oppressive. Sometimes, she felt like the walls were going to swallow her and she had to run to see the daylight to shake the feeling. Whatever she felt, Max must feel tenfold at least.

The Citadel was never Max’s home… and it never would be.

Furiosa closed her eyes tried to think of a time when the Green Place was her home. She remembered feeling so homesick and longing for her family and loved ones… but she didn’t actually recall what the Green Place was really like. She couldn’t even remember her mother’s face.

She opened her eyes to look at Max’s hunched back and quietly asked, “Do you have a home?”

“I did,” Max answered quickly, then trailed off, “Before…”

Furiosa waited for him to continue, but he grunted and promptly ended that conversation. She decided not to press further. After a moment, Max sighed and leaned back to lie next to her.

They spent a long time laying back on the Interceptor, staring off into the night sky and enjoying each other’s company. The desert grew cold at night and eventually Furiosa couldn’t stand shivering on the cold metal beneath her. She slid off the hood of the car and bid Max goodnight. She used to offer him a room—she once hoped that he would leave his things there and it give him a reason to come back more often—but Max preferred to sleep with his car. So Furiosa made her way back up the long winding tunnels to her chambers alone and felt weighed down by the thick walls all around her.

 

Max left in the morning.

“He never says goodbye,” Capable said sourly as they stood atop the mesa and watched the small speck of the Interceptor crest a dune and disappear from sight.

Furiosa shook her head and turned to walk away. She had things to do, but the Dag called her name and asked, “Would you ever go with him?”

She looked at the girls as they waited for her answer. Furiosa held her arms away from her sides and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She turned to leave and as she began to walk down the stairs and into the thick walls of the mesa, she could hear Toast say, “I would.”

 

Time passed slowly and Furiosa grew more and more restless with each day. She spent much of her time pacing and began to loathe being inside the mesas. She jumped on any excuse to leave the Citadel’s walls. She went on every supply run to Gasstown and the Bullet Farm, and even went on some scouting missions for peace negotiations with the Buzzards and Rock Riders. Furiosa realized why Max relished the open road so much.

The Citadel _was_ a cage. It was looming, oppressive… like a prison that housed old memories of an old power-hungry ruler who played god. And she was trapped.

She never spoke of the trapped feeling to the girls, but she knew they could sense that something was wrong. They often asked if she knew when Max was coming back or if she was going to leave them. She could never answer their questions.

Furiosa almost couldn’t hide her excitement when Max returned a few months later. She stood atop one of the towers and watched the lone vehicle approach. The closer it got, the louder her heart beat in her ears. She sprinted down the steps and arrived breathless in the garage just as Max climbed out of the car.

He looked up in surprise as she breathlessly ran up to him. Furiosa felt like a young, foolish girl for a moment, but Max offered a small, crooked smile in greeting. They spend the evening on the hood of the Interceptor, watching the sun set and the moon and stars track across the sky.

Furiosa spent most of the night trying to figure out how to tell Max that she didn’t want to stay in the Citadel any longer and that she wanted to travel with him. She tried to find the right way to say it, but couldn’t figure out a way that didn’t make her sound so desperate to escape. So they sat in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

Until Max spoke.

“Um,” he shifted position sharply, almost as if he had been abruptly woken up from sleep, “Do you…”

Furiosa watched him curiously as he struggled to find the words. He tried multiple times to ask her something, but mumbled irritably to himself as each time failed. Eventually, he scratched the back of his head nervously and managed, “Are you happy here?”

“It’s fine,” seemed the correct response to Furiosa when she said it. But she thought a moment and sighed, “Not really, no.”

Max gave a quick nod, almost more to himself as if her response had confirmed something for him. His mouth twitched and he looked down to fiddle with the straps on his knee brace. Furiosa picked at a worn spot on her mechanical hand and chewed on her lip.

After a long pause, Max looked her and asked, “Would you… I mean—do… you want to… uh, come with me?”

“Yes,” Furiosa responded immediately.

And Max smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfiction became kind of a monster that was heavily influenced by music. I was inspired by the song “Horse with No Name” by America, which is where I got the title from. I then built up a playlist of songs that made me think of Mad Max…which I listened to on repeat while commuting to and from work and school. I guess it’s kind of appropriate that I kept kind of building this story as I was driving. (I can share the playlist if anyone is interested.)
> 
> I wanted a Max returns story… but I also kind of wanted a story where Max and Furiosa went on a road trip together. All things considered, this is a pretty quiet, introspective drive for those two. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for reading! This work will update on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays.


	2. Chapter 2

Furiosa did not cry when she left the Citadel. She said goodbye to the girls and wiped away Cheedo and the Dag’s tears. Toast the Knowing gave her a curt farewell and stood off to the side—her expression was dark and hurt. Capable gave Furiosa a silky scarf to protect her from the harsh sun and sands. Capable smiled, but Furiosa could see the sadness underneath it. They felt like they were being abandoned.

But Furiosa did not cry.

She wrapped the scarf around her head and sat in the passenger seat of the Interceptor and watched the mesas shrink into the distance through the rearview mirror. Crows called above them and followed the car until the triplet towers disappeared from view.

Max turned West gunned the car through the Buzzard territory, easily outrunning the spiky cars. The Buzzards gave a halfhearted chase, but after Furiosa took a few potshots at them with the rifle, the desert clan gave up the pursuit.

And so, Max and Furiosa were alone in the desert. The sky was vast, cloudless, and blue. Sand dunes stretched as far as the eye could see and the air rippled in the heat. Furiosa glanced at Max, who had one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his leg. He looked the most relaxed she had ever seen him.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

He glanced at her, “West. Gonna show you the pelicans.”

Furiosa nodded and Max seemed pleased. The destination didn’t matter much to her. She simply wanted to be free of the Citadel and traveling with Max seemed like the right thing to do.

“It’s gonna be a long trip,” Max said, so she settled back into the seat and stared out the window at the dunes passing by. Eventually, she dozed off while listening to the deep rumble of the engine.

She woke some time later to find that the sun was already low in the sky and Max had stopped the car. He was gone, so Furiosa climbed out, shielded her eyes, and looked around. The scenery hadn’t changed at all since they had left the Citadel and the sand dunes stretched on to the horizon.

It was quiet out in the waste.

Her heartbeat sounded like war drums pounding in her ears. It was a peculiar sensation, experiencing utter silence. She was used to a noisy desert, filled with the sound of the War Rig’s roaring engine or the shouts of the War Boys around her. Even the Citadel was filled with constant noise. Thousands of buzzing voices and the mechanical clanging from garages were ever present. No, the desert was never quiet to her until now. She felt almost like she was on a completely different planet.

The sound of footsteps muffled by sand made her turn and she saw Max trekking up the side of the dune back to the car. “Had to take a leak,” he answered her silent question and then gestured to the driver’s seat, “Wanna drive?”

Furiosa nodded and they switched. Max settled into the passenger seat, crossed his arms, and tucked his chin into his chest. It wasn’t long before she heard him softly snore. She chuckled to herself and pulled the scarf down lower over her eyes to block the sun.

Time passed steadily. They took turns driving and only ever stopped occasionally to relieve themselves or stretch their legs. They stopped at night and camped under the stars, curled next to each other to share warmth against the cold nights. Sometimes they talked, but they sat in silence more often than not. They spent days without talking at all and they didn’t really need to. It was very easy to get lost in thought out in the noiseless desert. Even though Max had invited her to travel with him, sometimes Furiosa couldn’t shake the feeling that she was actually unwelcome. Max never said anything about it and neither did she, but it was always lingering in the back of her mind.

Furiosa knew that Max was haunted by some internal demons; she caught a glimpse of that on the Fury Road. But she quickly came to realize that he wasn’t always able to keep control over his racing thoughts. His dreams were frequently nightmares and he woke up from them with a violent jolt. When he was awake, sometimes his gaze would fixate and his eyes would become glossy as if he was looking at something directly in front of him. Often, he would rock back and forth and mutter to himself.

It was difficult for Furiosa to watch and she tried to ignore it, but she often felt useless because she couldn’t do something to help him. He sat in the passenger’s seat and moaned quietly to himself. His head twitched back and forth and his hands were brought up in fists under his chin.

Furiosa observed Max’s anguish out of the corner of her eye. Before she realized what she was doing, she tentatively reached out with her right hand and said his name softly. He didn’t seem to notice, so she gently touched his shoulder. He jerked with sudden movement and his fists flashed out, one just barely grazed her cheek. Furiosa reacted by slamming on the breaks. The car slid to a halt and spun slightly to the side as the loose sand shifted beneath the tires.

Max’s lucidity came back all at once and he shot her an unreadable look before he scrambled out of the car and stalked away. Furiosa’s heart pounded and she slowly got out of the car. Her legs were shaking. She watched him walk down the dune with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket.

Furiosa gave him a few minutes to let his head cool before she followed. He stood in the shadow of the dune and Furiosa slid down the sand to stand next to him. He glanced over his shoulder to her and then looked up at the car briefly.

“Max,” Furiosa began but he turned sharply and interrupted her.

“Did I hurt you?” He avoided looking at her eyes, but pointed to her cheek. She shook her head. His knuckle barely brushed her and it didn’t hurt at all. He audibly sighed in relief.

“I’m sorry,” Max said and finally made eye contact with her. His expression was pained and distant—she saw that same expression before when he decided to part ways with them after they found the Many Mothers. “I didn’t… sometimes… I see things… hear things.”

“I understand,” Furiosa said softly. She knew how difficult this was for him to talk about.

Max closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, “I try to run away, but I can’t escape them. They… scare me. I’m sorry.”

He looked down at his shaking hands and Furiosa reached out to touch his shoulder. He leaned into her touch and let out a shaky breath.

“Come,” Furiosa took his hand and began to lead him back to the vehicle, “Let’s keep moving.”

He gripped her hand as if he was clinging for dear life.


	3. Chapter 3

Max stopped the Interceptor atop a tall dune and squinted into the glinting sunlight. The sun was setting and there was a bright flash of reflected light amidst the sands ahead of them. Max and Furiosa exchanged glances—they hadn’t seen anyone else since they left the Buzzards behind near the Citadel. Max drove the car down the dune and cautiously drove towards the other traveler. Eventually, they got close enough to tell that it wasn’t one vehicle, but four. They were all completely trashed. It looked like a traveling party had been attacked.

“Keep a lookout,” Max grunted and got out of the car. He left it running, so Furiosa slid into the driver’s seat and watched him approach the wreck. She placed a clip in the rifle and scanned the horizon. There was no sign of any bandits or attackers. Even the tire tracks had been covered by windblown sand. She wondered how long ago the caravan had been attacked.

She looked back down towards the mess of cars and saw Max trudging back up the dune with something cradled in his arms. She couldn’t tell what it was until he carefully maneuvered himself into the passenger side of the car and a small whimper emanated from the bundle.

It was a dog.

It was a fairly small, with tall ears, a long body, and short legs. Its fur was as red as the sands around them and the eyes were very dark and very wide with fear. It looked malnourished and scraggly, with matted fur and prominent ribs. It whined and struggled weakly. Max held it carefully and made gentle shushing noises.

He looked up at Furiosa and said, “It’s hurt. There was nothing else. We should keep moving.”

Furiosa gave the wreck a wide berth and continued their drive. She watched Max care for the dog out of the corner of her eye. The dog’s left hind leg looked like it had been crushed and it was reduced to a bleeding mess. Max did his best to bind up the leg with bandages, but it was difficult to do with a squirming dog in a moving vehicle.

When they stopped for the night, Max held the panting dog close to his chest and said solemnly, “The leg has to go.” Furiosa felt her stomach drop.

They laid out a blanket and Max disinfected a large knife over the fire. Furiosa kept the dog from moving too much by laying on top of it. It trembled and she held a rag in its mouth while Max did the dirty work. The dog yelped and screamed and Furiosa felt like she was going to throw up. White hot memories of pain flashed through her arm, but she squeezed her eyes shut and whispered soothingly to the dog.

Max finished up quickly. He nudged her and handed her bandages while he cleaned up the rest of the wound. Furiosa stared at the dog’s stump, but her vision went white. She closed her eyes and Max gently took the bandages from her hands and replaced it with a canteen of water. She held onto the canteen and didn’t move.

“Drink,” said Max and he pushed on her hands lightly. Furiosa opened her eyes and shakily unscrewed the cap, but fumbled with it, spilling precious water on her lap. Max reached out and held onto her hands, carefully guiding the canteen to her mouth. Furiosa drank and Max placed the cap back on the canteen when she was done.

Furiosa closed her eyes again and slowly reached out to pet the dog. Her hand touched the soft ears and she stroked down the dog’s trembling neck.

“You did good. You did good,” Max said quietly and repeated it over and over, “You did good.”

Furiosa wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the dog.

 

A couple weeks passed and they made little progress in their journey. But the dog—whom Max had simply dubbed “Dog”—improved leaps and bounds. Her wound healed quickly and she had developed a hobbling gait to race around whenever they stopped. She made a nice addition to their little group and she often made both Furiosa and Max laugh with her crazy antics. Dog would curl up between them during the night and wake them up with soft licks in the morning.

Max was becoming much more lucid as their travels continued. Dog even helped him deal with his ghosts—he would hold her tight and she would gently place her head on his shoulder. Sometimes, he would reach over and grip Furiosa’s hand as if to ground himself further. Furiosa smiled inwardly each time.

With the lucidity , Max even became more talkative. He would start conversations, ask questions, or even tell stories. He was still not very eloquent, but Furiosa appreciated this new “chatty” Max. The time passed quicker and she felt less tense. Any thoughts of being unwelcome vanished. They were comfortable now.

One morning, she sat on the roof of the car with Dog in her lap and idly watched Max shave. He crouched in front of the side mirror and carefully slid his knife over his cheek.

He glanced up at her and grunted, “Your hair is getting long.”

Furiosa rubbed her hand over her head and felt the length of her hair. She generally kept it shaved close to her scalp, but her hair had grown to be at least five centimetres since she left the Citadel. It wasn’t as long as Toast’s or even Max’s hair, but it was the longest her hair had been in years.

“Yeah,” she responded thoughtfully, “I haven’t shaved it since before we left.”

Max wiped his knife off on a rag and rubbed a hand over his cheek. Without looking at her, he asked, “Why do you keep it short?”

“I… don’t know,” Furiosa shrugged and rubbed Dog’s ear, “I shaved it for so many years under Joe’s reign. Ever since I was taken…”

He paused in his shaving and looked up at her. His eyes searched her face for a long time before he said anything. “How long was your hair before?”

She gestured to her mid waist, “Long. Never as long as Valkyrie’s. I remember always envying her hair.”

Max quirked a smile at her. Furiosa smiled shyly back and recalled, “We used to wear feathers in our hair. We would paint beads and braid them into our hair as well… I used to be so proud of my hair. And my mother would run her hands through it to comb out the tangles…”

Furiosa shook her head and sighed. Max was silent for a moment and said, “You could do that again. Er… feathers and beads in hair.”

“Yeah…”

Max offered a smile and then went back to shaving. Furiosa ran her hand through her hair again and made a decision. She’d grow it out again—it was hers to do with as she wished. And she would wear feathers and beads like she used to. For Valkyrie, for her mother. For herself.


	4. Chapter 4

The gently rolling dunes gave way to a rough, hill-less landscape. The car bumped over the terrain and they had to slow their pace to avoid any potholes and rocks. They stopped a moment to inflate the tires after driving on the dunes. Furiosa crouched next to the car as Max stood on a tall rock to the side and looked around. Dog wandered around the parked vehicle, snuffling around for two-headed lizards.

Max grunted and Furiosa peered up at him, squinting her eyes into the high sun. He glanced at her and then pointed to the North. Furiosa walked over to Max and scrambled up onto the rock next to him. The sun beat down on them and the hot air quivered. She could see a silver glint in the distance. It flashed every now and again, but it wasn’t moving. Something was moving in front of it.

“Cars?” Furiosa asked.

Max shook his head and gracelessly limped down the rock, “No, a town. Well… desert town. You know, very small.” He made a tight gesture to emphasize the small size.

He whistled for Dog and they loaded back into the Interceptor. Max turned the car toward dwelling and approached slowly. The silver glint turned into a small encampment of rickety shacks made of old sheet metal and canvas. It didn’t take the people long to notice their approach, because the Interceptor’s engine was not a quiet one. Sun tanned people crawled out of the huts and watched them approach with wary interest.

Max parked the interceptor a short distance from the hovels and slowly got out. A dark skinned, wrinkled old woman approached them using a metal pipe wrapped with cloth as support. Her skin was weathered and she had no teeth as she smiled at Max and patted his hands. She said something in a language that Furiosa didn’t understand and gestured for her to get out of the car.

Furiosa tentatively got out, but Dog jumped out excitedly and bounded up to the woman. The woman laughed with joy as Dog wagged her entire body in greeting. She said something to Max and he responded in the same language. Furiosa watched with fascination as the rest of the people circled around them and greeted them.

“They don’t get many visitors,” Max said to her quietly, “I know them.”

The loved Dog and were very interested in Furiosa’s arm. They talked to her and she smiled at them, not understanding their language but not wanting to be rude. Eventually, Max pulled some blankets and old clothes out of the back of his car and gave them to the people. They took the offerings graciously and pulled Max and Furiosa over to the center of the hovels.

They spent the night with the people. As the sun sunk below the horizon, the desert people lit a fire and passed out a soup—it was watery and bland, but Max and Furiosa accepted graciously. It was a nice change from the rations they ate day in and day out.

After they finished their meal, the people started to sing and dance around the fire. Furiosa laughed as Max danced with the old woman. It was more of a shuffle from side to side, but Max’s earnestness and the woman’s unhurried movements were extremely charming. Furiosa was pulled up to dance by a young boy, and they jumped around the fire with Dog at their heels. The people sang and danced around the fire until the moon was high in the sky.

Finally, the joyous desert people crawled back into their sheet metal shacks and retired for the night. Furiosa and Max were given dusty blankets and directed to an empty shack close to the fire. It was small and dark, but lying down was a welcome change from sleeping on the car seats.

“You’ve been here before?” Furiosa whispered and pulled off her prosthetic. She laid it down at their feet and crawled under the covers. Dog curled up next to her and let out a comfortable sigh.

Max grunted an affirmative. She could hear him fiddling with his knee brace, but he didn’t speak until he crawled under the covers beside her. “I make stops. To see people and give help if they need it. Sometimes I make things better… sometimes I make things worse.”

“These people seem to like you.”

“Mm.”

Furiosa could feel the warmth radiating off of Max and Dog. The desert grew cold during the nights, so they often slept side by side to share warmth. Furiosa closed her eyes and listened to Max’s breathing—slow and steady. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Max.”

“Mm?”

“Thank you,” Furiosa whispered into the darkness of the hut. Max shifted slightly, as if he turned to look towards her. She continued, “Thank you for taking me with you. I know it probably wasn’t the easiest for you… to share this.”

There was a pause and then Max responded, “No… I uh… I wanted to. I tried to ask you to come before, but I… never could.” She didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but Max continued, “I wanted you to come. Because I… I can’t—er, I don’t always wanna be alone.”

Furiosa smiled to herself and said, “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Max said in return.

 

They bid farewell to the people the next morning. The old woman, who had initially welcomed them, was the last to see them off. She balled her hand into a fist and placed it over her heart, then placed her fist over Max’s heart. She repeated the movement with Furiosa and it reminded her of the gesture of the Vulvalini.

These people had nothing to offer them in terms of supplies like water or guzzoline, because they barely had enough for themselves. But Furiosa was thankful for the experience of spending the night with them.

“I don’t visit the same place much…” Max said as they drove away. Furiosa shifted the position of her hands on the wheel and glanced over to him. He had turned around in his seat and stared out the rear window as the shacks disappeared in the distance. “I only go a few places more than once. The Citadel… this place…”

He trailed off and eventually turned back around in his seat. They drove in silence for the rest of the day. The flat gravelly terrain eventually turned into craggy hills and steep cliffs. It reminded Furiosa of the Rock Riders’ territory. She scanned the bluffs around them, but saw no sign of any cliff dweller. She wondered if they stayed hidden like the rock riders or if this place was uninhabited.

The sun was directly above them when they switched. Furiosa settled into the passenger seat with Dog in her lap and Max kept them driving at the tops of the cliffs. They could see for miles in any direction. She could even see the dunes in the distance behind them.

As the sun dipped sank lower in the sky, Max eventually found a small, steep path that led down the side of a cliff face. Furiosa peered over the edge with wary curiosity, but Max maneuvered the Interceptor expertly around the sharp turns on the narrow path.

Deep purple shadows swallowed them when they reached the bottom of the cliff and parked in a narrow, twisting valley. The temperature was remarkably cooler at the bottom of the crags. They got out of the car and Dog raced around, excited at the chance to stretch her legs.

Max gestured for Furiosa to look at something, so she made her way around the car and joined him to crouch on the ground. He ran his fingers over the hard packed dirt and Furiosa noticed the delicate texture beneath them. The ground had ripples.

“This used to be a river,” Max said and his voice reverberated off the rock walls around them. Furiosa tracked the ripples across the ground and saw that they snaked through the entire bottom of the canyon. Max gestured up to the sides of the cliffs where the rock had once been bleached with water well above their heads. Furiosa hadn’t noticed the colour change at first, but seeing how deep the river had once been was sobering.

Max stood creakily and tossed some pebbles for Dog to chase. Furiosa ran her hand across the faded rock face and thought about the amount of water that once poured through such a small valley. She thought of Joe, who pumped up water from deep within the Earth and hoarded it all for himself. When she first saw the pool of water in his throne room, she marveled at the amount of water he possessed.

That was a mere puddle compared to what once flowed through these cliffs. Furiosa felt a heavy sadness at the thought that the water had completely dried up. How beautiful it must have been.

“Ready to go?” Max’s voice was distant, but it pulled her out of her thoughts.

Furiosa nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.” Her voice echoed off of the empty walls. And so they continued on.


	5. Chapter 5

Furiosa lost track of how long it had been since they left the Citadel.

Many days and nights had passed, and she figured they had been gone for some time just by how long her hair had grown. Her hair was now around eight centimetres long and hung down over her forehead. She often pulled her hair up under the scarf that Capable had given to her to get it off of her face and neck.

Ultimately, they kept moving west. Sometimes they would travel North or South, but eventually max would turn the Interceptor to face west, as if they were chasing the sun when it set. Furiosa knew that Max’s definitive destination was to show her where the pelicans came from, but she was just enjoying the journey. Max seemed to feel the same way, because they were taking their time.

They were in no rush.

And they were very much alone. Aside from seeing the occasional travelling caravan far in the distance or passing by the occasional scraggly scavenger by the side of the road, they saw very few other people. Sometimes Furiosa saw gangs of bikers tracking them through the cliffs. The bikers would get just close enough that she could focus her rifle on them, but just as quickly as they appeared, they’d turn tail and vanish. Max was unconcerned and explained that bandits often thought that a single, small vehicle wasn’t worth their time.

Furiosa only half believed that—the Interceptor was a distinctive vehicle and any interaction with Max left a lasting impression. She suspected the bandits gave them distance for a reason.

Furiosa and Max came across another town tucked away in the lee of a cliff. This town was much bigger than the collection of scrap metal shacks they had stopped at some weeks earlier, but the people weren’t nearly as friendly. They had constructed a large wall out of hard packed clay imbedded with metal spikes, giving the perimeter of the city a silhouette similar to the spikey cars of the Buzzards. It was not welcoming.

“State your name and purpose for visiting Sharp Rock,” a guard clad in dull colours and shiny bits of metal demanded as they approached the gate.

“Max Rockatansky,” Max said and leaned over Furiosa, who sat at the wheel. The guard eyed Furiosa and her am, so Max continued, “And this is… er, Jessie. We’re here for trade. You know, food, water, guzzoline. The like.”

The guard stared at Furiosa’s arm a moment longer, then stepped back and waved them through. Furiosa side-eyed Max and raised her eyebrow. He just shrugged. They were directed to a garage where they parked the Interceptor and filled a couple bags with spare parts and old clothes for trade.

Max handed her a long brown poncho, with a dark red fringe decorating the bottom. “To cover that arm,” he explained. She nodded and slipped it over her head, then arranged the scarf over her hair.

“Jessie?” Furiosa asked they stepped out of the garage. Dog stayed close to their heels as they stepped into the crowd of bustling people.

Max’s lips quirked into a small smile and he said, “Word can travel far. I’ve heard recounting of Fury Road even out here. You never know what names will bring up for people.”

Furiosa accepted that answer without any further questions, but she felt like he still hadn’t told her something. She shifted the bag over her shoulder and followed Max through the throngs of people. The buildings around them reminded her of the Citadel. Everything was built with a mishmash of metal parts and hard packed clay into the side of the cliffs.

The people wore drab clothing and milled about with purpose. Max stopped a couple of times to ask people leaning on the walls directions for a bazaar. Everyone was curt and answered his questions with terse responses.

“They don’t trust outsiders,” Max said in a low voice to her as they continued walking, “We won’t stay long.”

Dog seemed to understand the same unfriendly vibe and stuck close to Furiosa. At one point, a toothless old man grabbed Dog in an attempt to steal her, but her yelp alerted both Max and Furiosa. Max shouted at the man, who wouldn’t let go of Dog. Furiosa let go of her bag and swung at him. She him square in the nose with her prosthetic.

The man cried out in pain and dropped Dog, who scampered over to Max with her ears back and her tail tucked between her legs. The dog snatcher held on to his nose as it gushed blood and moaned angrily, then looked up at Furiosa as if ready for a fight. She stepped forward and squared her shoulders, but all of his fight vanished and he scurried away. She spat after him.

“C’mon,” Max nudged her with his arm. He scooped up Dog and Furiosa picked up her bag. People had stopped to watch the commotion, but Max and Furiosa ducked their heads and stepped back into the crowd. They picked up the pace and finally made it to the bazaar.

It was a long hallway carved into the rock, with dingy hides tied to metal spikes separating different stalls. Shopkeeps sat behind tables stacked with wares and bartered noisily with people. The air was smoky and smelled rotten.

Max strode through the throngs of people, looking for a specific booth. Furiosa struggled to keep up with his pace, but she pushed through the crowd after him. They stopped in front of a foul smelling man who wore an old pilot’s cap and snake skins draped over his bare shoulders.

“Maaax Rockataaansky,” The man stood up and held out his arms as if to greet Max like they were old friends. Max ignored the invitation for an embrace, so the man dropped his arms and flashed a toothless grin at Furiosa, “And who may this be?”

Max wrinkled his nose in distaste and Furiosa introduced herself with the nickname, “I’m Jessie.”

The sleazy man’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he turned to Max with a knowing expression. He let out a loud hoot and jabbed his elbow into Max’s side. Max looked extremely uncomfortable and shifted away from the shopkeeper.

“We’ve got stuff to trade, Tion” Max said curtly and set Dog on the ground. “We want rations. Water.”

Tion pursed his lips and sat back down, obviously dejected that Max was having none of his attempt at good humour. He shoved the pile of junk on his table to the side, so Max and Furiosa could empty their bags. He hummed as he poked through their things, occasionally picking up choice items and inspecting them. After a long deliberation, he raised his eyebrows and peered up at Max.

“Slim pickings?” Tion pouted, “I’m so disappointed.”

“What can you offer?” Max asked. Furiosa stood back and watched him deal.

Tion selected some spare engine parts, a couple wrenches, binoculars, and… the pelican skull. He flashed another toothless grin and offered, “All of this can get you… hmmm, say twenty litres of water and 2 kilos of rations.”

Max sighed and Furiosa scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“I’m being generous.”

“All of this is worth so much more than that,” Furiosa frowned and placed her hands on her hips. Max watched her and remained silent.

Tion sneered at her, “The price for living is high my dear. Bring me better junk next time, or you’ll get what you deserve.”

“The skull alone is worth at least twice what you offered,” she countered, but Tion only made a dismissive gesture in response. Furiosa glanced at Max and he just shrugged.

“Shame," she said, “We’ll take our business elsewhere.”

With slow deliberation, she began to pack the things back into the bag—first the binoculars, then the wrenches. Tion’s eyes twitched when she slowly took the engine parts one by one. When her hand reached for the pelican skull, he jumped up.

“Wait wait wait just a minute there,” He laughed and held his arms out in an amicable fashion. Furiosa looked up and offered her absolute _best_ smile—but there was no warmth or friendliness behind it. A bead of sweat raced down the side of Tion’s face and Furiosa was pleased that he took her meaning.

 

“I’m impressed,” Max said for what seemed like the hundredth time as they loaded the Interceptor up with the supplies they bartered from that day. Furiosa smirked and Max rubbed the back of his head. “If I could haggle half as well as you, I wouldn’t come crawling back to the Citadel half-starved each time.”

“We need to work on your people skills,” she pushed his shoulder playfully.

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “I’ve never seen anyone squeeze Tion as well as you.”

Furiosa climbed into the passenger seat and pulled Dog up onto her lap as Max situated himself in the driver’s seat. She gave him a winning smile, “I’m so charismatic.”

“You’re something, that’s for sure,” he grunted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

They left the compound at night, loaded with guzzoline, water, food, and even a couple of cans of Dinki-Di’s for Dog. They drove through the night because Max insisted that they put distance between them and the city. Furiosa shrugged and settled back to sleep while he drove.

When she woke hours later, Max had stopped the vehicle on the edge of the cliff and was sitting on the hood with Dog curled up next to him. The sky was still a deep blackish-blue, but there were wisps of pink and yellow at the horizon.

Furiosa wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and got out of the car, leaving her prosthetic behind. With a gentle smile, she joined her companions on the hood. Max smiled at her as she settled next to him and she offered to share her blanket. He took it and they leaned into each other to watch the sunrise in comfortable silence.

The sky slowly shifted from dark blue to a luminous pink as the sun peaked over the horizon. Some delicate clouds hung low and scattered the light, causing brilliant beams to cut through the sky. After a long while, the initial dazzling light faded to a misty blue that settled over the red cliffs in front of them.

Max made a noise in the back of his throat and pulled a small rag out of his jacket pocket. He unfolded it and produced a small, soft white feather. “I saw this and…” He murmured and handed it to her.

Furiosa smiled gently and took it. It was as long as her pinky finger and had a little string wrapped around the end and secured with a dark green bead. It was beautiful.

“Thank you,” She breathed and held it up to her hair, “Can you… help me?”

Max took the feather and Furiosa moved in front of Max so he could tie it in her hair. She leaned on his leg and his hands were gentle as he fastened it behind her right ear. Furiosa smoothed down her hair and turned to look Max when he was finished.

He nodded and said, “Looks good.”

“Thank you.”

 

Eventually, the cliffs and craggy landscape gave way to salt flats. Furiosa felt a pang of unease at the thought of crossing the flats, remembering the previous desperation when she fled East… As if sensing her unease, Max patted her leg. And so Furiosa swallowed her discomfort and they drove into the salt.

After a few days, Furiosa realized that the air was hotter and drier in the flatlands. The dunes were constantly pushed and pulled by the wind and the cliffs offered shade. But the salt flats were open and still. There was no sign of life in any direction.

Furiosa pulled her scarf down low over her eyes and squinted into the bright surroundings. Dog panted heavily and Max even shed his precious leather jacket. They didn’t talk much, because the heat sapped their energy. They rationed their water, but they were careful not to get dehydrated. This part of their journey seemed the longest and arduous.

After a week in the flats, they came across a fence.

“Rabbit-proof fence,” Max called it and kicked it lightly with his boot. It was a small wire fence, just barely coming up to her waist. The fence was in bad condition, missing large sections and the metal looked like it had melted in some spots.

“What’s a rabbit?” Furiosa asked.

Max glanced at her with a peculiar expression and then scratched his head, “It’s uh… a rodent. Small, fuzzy. Got a little tail. Ears that stick up.” He held two fingers vertically above his head to demonstrate.

Furiosa smirked, but Max just waved his hand at her and made an exasperated noise. They climbed back in the car and Furiosa drove away from the sad little fence.

“Doesn’t look like it’d do much,” she commented.

Max shrugged, “It’s old. I’m surprised it’s still standing… It’s from before…”

He trailed off and didn’t continue that train of thought. This wasn’t the first time Furiosa had wondered how old Max really was. He often made offhand comments of _before_. She figured he didn’t mean just before the events on Fury Road. The way he used the word sounded loaded. But she knew he would never answer any questions about it. He still kept some secrets close to his chest.

 

On the eleventh day in the flats, they saw a fire in the distance.

Furiosa slowed the car and Max jumped out to climb on the roof. He held up a pair of binoculars and stood there for a long time while Furiosa squinted into the distance. She couldn’t tell what had caused it, because the heat created dozens of silvery mirages.

“Thugs,” Max called, “Attacking a caravan.”

Moments after he said that, she heard the echoing pops of gunfire. The gunfire stopped abruptly and a group of small black dots peeled away and drove North, trailing a line of kicked up dust. Max limped off the hood and climbed back into the car. He wiped his forehead and glanced at her.

“We’ll check it out,” Max said then made a semicircle gesture with his hand, “Go wide and come from the South.”

Furiosa nodded and started the engine. She turned the Interceptor away from the wreck and kept her eyes on the caravan in the distance as they approached cautiously. Max sat up straight and scanned the horizon in all directions for any sign of the attackers. Finally, they pulled up close to the smoldering cars and Furiosa parked the vehicle, but left the engine on.

Max nudged her and she got out as he slid into the driver’s seat. He handed her a rifle and she walked forward slowly. The heat beat down on her and she listened to the hot pinging of metal and the crackle of fire from the destroyed cars. They wouldn’t get any guzzoline out of these vehicles.

As she passed around a smoking car, she saw the bodies of men and women strewn on the ground. Their clothes had been ripped off and they salty ground had been stained dark red with their blood. She kneeled to check if a woman was alive, but there was a fresh bullet hole above her left eye. She stared straight up into the blue sky in horror. Furiosa brushed the woman’s eyes closed and let out a shaky sigh.

Suddenly, she heard a little noise. It sounded like a whimper. Furiosa stood and followed the noise with her hands ready on the rifle. The whine sounded again and it came from an overturned car. She knelt down and tilted her head to look inside. A man was strapped into the car and upside down. He was limp and his head had been completely crushed. He was very dead.

Furiosa wrinkled her nose and looked past the man. She could see a small body hanging upside down from the seat next to the dead man. It moved slightly and cried out in pain.

“Hey,” Furiosa called to the child softly, “Hey, I’m here to help you. Don’t move. I’ll get you out.”

The child sobbed and Furiosa reached for her knife to cut the man out of the car so she could reach the child. All of a sudden, she heard Dog bark and Max shout. Furiosa snapped her head up and looked over her shoulder. Max stood on the roof of the Interceptor and was pointing North. She turned and saw dozens of dust clouds in the distance.

The gang was coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little side note! I really wanted to draw the feather scene, so I decided to include an illustration. You can follow more of my art at sheepish-doodles.tumblr.com. (I'm not sure how to do links here! Sorry!)


	7. Chapter 7

Furiosa turned back to getting the child out of the overturned vehicle with frantic energy. She whipped a knife out of her boot and cut the seat belts that were holding the dead man in place. He slumped into the ground and Furiosa grimaced as she tried to wrestle him out of the way. Unfortunately, she didn’t have good leverage and only managed to pull him halfway through the window.

Max shouted again and Furiosa yelled over her shoulder in response, “I’m coming!” She heard the Interceptor’s engine roar to life.

She lunged over the body and inside the vehicle. The child’s sobbing had gone quiet and she hung still in the straps. Furiosa cursed under her breath and only now noticed that the little girl’s head and stomach were bleeding. Furiosa had to stretch out on top of the dead man’s corpse as she worked the straps off of the girl. The girl remained silent, but clutched a small leather pouch to her chest. Blood covered her hands and flies already started buzzing in her face.

She ignored the insects and cut the last of the straps holding the girl in place. With grim determination, Furiosa carefully pulled the girl out of the car. The girl’s eyes fluttered and her breathing was very shallow. It struck Furiosa how young and fragile the child looked… her blonde hair and fair skin resembled the Dag’s daughter.

Furiosa swallowed hard and tried not to follow that train of thought any further. She jumped up with the child in her arms and sprinted back to the Interceptor. The bandits roared up behind her and bullets thudded into the hard-packed sand at her feet. Max barely waited for her to jump into the car before he slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car door banged closed just as she got her legs in the car. Dog barked excitedly as they peeled away from the wreck.

The bandits swarmed around them and yelled angry obscenities at them. Furiosa carefully maneuvered the little girl into the back of the car with Dog, then turned and fired her rifle at the pursuing vehicles. Max pulled out a pistol and fired out his window as he drove. He was muttering something under his breath, but Furiosa couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roar of the engines and gunfire.

A vehicle pulled up close and a lancer held up a thunderstick, ready to strike. Furiosa braced herself and leaned out the window. She felt Max grab her ankle as she grabbed the thunderstick and yanked it out of the thug’s hand. The lancer’s mouth opened to shout, but Furiosa swung the thunderstick around and jammed it straight into the driver’s window.

White hot explosion snapped her head back and the pursuing vehicle veered away from them and came to a sudden stop. Furiosa climbed back into the car as Max shot at another fast approaching car. Furiosa took a couple potshots and hit the driver on the third shot. That car nearly spun them out as the driver slumped against the wheel and the hood grazed the Interceptor’s trunk.

Furiosa shot a couple more drivers and aimed for tires as they continued to flee, but the bandits were getting farther and farther behind them as the Interceptor beat them for speed. Finally, one by one, their pursuers slowed their chase and turned around. Furiosa let out a shaky sigh of relief and rubbed her neck.

Max shot her a look that she couldn’t quite read and then turned back to continue driving. He kept a fast pace for another hour before he finally slowed the car. The landscape around them had changed from the salt flats and gave way to slight hills and rocky formations. They both turned to check on the girl in the back. Dog lay protectively around her and she still desperately gripped the leather bag close to her chest.

They carefully took her out of the car and laid her down on a blanket to treat her wounds. She had a nasty gash on her head and an even deeper wound in her stomach. Her skin was pale and clammy from blood loss. Furiosa grimly cleaned the wounds and bound them with bandages. Max tried to help at first by holding the dressings, but he quickly put them down and walked away with stiff legs. She heard him retch a little ways away.

When Furiosa finished cleaning and dressing the girl’s wounds, she sat back on her heels and watched the child sleep. Dog circled around the girl and then settled down next to her, as if to protect her. Furiosa scratched Dog’s ears and sighed.

The girl’s hair was a darker blonde than the Dag’s daughter. It was dustier and her skin was slightly darker as well. They were similar, but this girl was much younger than the Dag’s little Angharad. This one was barely a toddler. Furiosa knew the girl wouldn’t survive her injuries.

Furiosa wiped her hands on a rag and stood. She turned and saw Max sitting on the ground a few paces way with his head in his hands. She slowly walked to him, making sure that her footsteps weren’t too quiet so she wouldn’t startle him.

“Max,” she said, but he didn’t respond. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and he jumped. “Max…”

He turned his head sharply and she saw that his eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying. She sat down next to him and held out her hand. He took it, but didn’t say anything. His grip was strong.

“I did the best that I could,” Furiosa said quietly.

Max gave a slight nod and closed his eyes, but he said nothing. Furiosa looked over her shoulder to Dog and the little girl. Dog watched them, and the girl’s chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. But she didn’t make any other movement.

Furiosa looked away and remembered Max’s words from once before. _Hope is a mistake_.

 

Max’s sleep was restless and plagued with dreams that night.

Furiosa couldn’t sleep, so she listened to Max toss and turn. He moaned and occasionally mumbled while he slept. She never quite understood what he said, but she swore she heard the words “Jessie” and “Sprog” a number of times. She wondered what memories this girl had triggered in him.

Furiosa realized that everyone dealt with their past in different ways. She learned that she tended to just blacked things out, trying to forget the traumas in her past. It was easier not to remember.

Max remembered too much.

 

The girl passed away two days later.

She barely ever regained consciousness over the time they cared for her. She would sometimes cry softly or shudder with fever dreams, but she never showed any signs of getting better. Dog stayed with the girl most of the time, as did Furiosa. Max remained distant until the very end. He held her as she passed away and he openly cried.

Furiosa wiped tears away from her cheeks and wrapped an arm around Max’s shoulders as he wept. Dog stood and leaned up against Max. The girl’s death hit them all hard and they quietly mourned her passing.

They dug a hole in the hard, packed ground and buried her. Furiosa opened the leather pouch that the girl clutched tight between her fingers and discovered a couple of seeds inside. She tucked the pouch back under the child’s hands and they shoveled the dirt over her body. Furiosa wondered if the seeds would grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for how dark this chapter is... but hang in there, we only have two more chapters to go till the end! Thank you SO much for everyone who has read and stuck through. I very much appreciate all of you. <3


	8. Chapter 8

Max didn’t speak for the next few days. When he was awake, he was withdrawn… rocking, twitching, and muttering to himself. When he was asleep, his nightmares were relentless and he never slept long. They made little progress in their journey and Furiosa drove most of the time, but she was exhausted from the whole ordeal. Even Dog was affected by it. She would avoid Max, but give him longing stares as if she missed her old companion.

Furiosa tried to talk to him, but he acted as if she wasn’t even there. She wondered if the child’s death set him over the edge. She felt like they had made such great progress and that they were comfortable with each other. Unfortunately, Max’s mind was too unsettled and too unpredictable.

It was painful to watch as the man that she had grown to care about tore himself apart.

But, he finally spoke to her more than a week after they buried the little girl. Furiosa had gone for a small walk with Dog away from the Interceptor and Max, to give her mind a chance to relax. When she returned to the vehicle, Max was leaning up against the side of the car and he kept his gaze low.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as she approached, but Furiosa wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to her. She looked at him and he stared at his hands. He spoke a little louder, “I’m… sorry. I’m sorry.”

Furiosa gazed at him and thought about what to say. She carefully tried, “You don’t have to apologize.”

Max shook his head, but didn’t look at her. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eye yet, “No no. I… sometimes… it gets too hard to, er, sort through everything. And I…” He shrugged. It was a quick jerky movement. “I can’t always… It’s hard to think sometimes.”

Furiosa nodded as he tried to put his racing, disturbed thoughts into words. He glanced up at her but looked away quickly as he met her eyes. He continued to speak, “I want to tell you. I want to tell you that… a long time ago, _long_ time ago. I had a wife…”

“Jessie,” she said quietly.

Max nodded, “Jessie. And we had a son. He was my Sprog and… my Sprog and I lost them. I went crazy and couldn’t stop until I killed the people who did it.”

He took a long, shaky breath and Furiosa realized that this was probably the first time in years that he talked about the experience. Max continued and Furiosa listened. “I can see them. Them and all of the people who I couldn’t save. And all the people I killed. I can see them and I can hear them.”

Furiosa remembered that Max talked about hearing and seeing things before, very early on in their journey. He was so profoundly disturbed by these visions and she felt helpless that she couldn’t do more to help ease his antagonizing thoughts.

“I want to help people,” He said and looked her in the eye for the first time in a long time, “I want to help people, but sometimes I can’t. And that hurts, that sticks with me… like,” He held out his hands, unable to put the feeling into words. He grimaced and pressed his fingers into his temple, as if the thought was drilling into his head. “I can’t always help.”

Furiosa said softly, “You helped me.”

Max was silent at that.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He stared at her long and hard, as if trying to figure something out. After a while, he nodded slightly and grunted in response. He turned and got into the driver’s seat and started the Interceptor. Furiosa smiled and walked around the car to get in, feeling lighter than she had in days.

 

The wind picked up that evening. Flurries of sand whirled around them and the car was buffeted by the gale force winds. By the time the sun was just above the horizon, a dense wall of sand rose behind them. Furiosa pushed the car faster as they watched the haboob quickly gain on them.

The Interceptor rocked back and forth violently as the wall of sand engulfed them. Dog panted nervously and Furiosa held onto the steering wheel as it rattled. It was hard to see, but Max pointed ahead, “There’s a rock. Take cover there.”

Furiosa directed the Inteceptor towards the large boulder, and swung around to park in the lee. The wind screamed and whistled around them deafeningly, like thousands of howling voices. All visibility was gone and the world outside was a mass of dark red. The rock blocked most of the violent gusts, but sand still found its way into each and every crevice of the vehicle.

Max pulled Dog into the front seat and onto his lap, then wrapped her in a blanket for protection. Unable to do much else, they huddled together and waited out the storm. It lasted a little under a half hour, but the dark red turned to a deep black as they were buried and it became night. When the howling finally died down, Furiosa had drifted off to sleep with Max’s forehead touching hers.

When she woke up, she could see light peeking through the sand that covered the car. Furiosa shifted and peered at Max’s silhouette—he was still soundly asleep. Her arm ached, and she realised that she hadn’t taken off her robotic arm before she fell asleep. She quietly undid the straps, pulled the prosthetic off, and moved her arm about to work the knots out.

Dog stretched and sighed as Furiosa nudged Max to wake him up. He jolted awake with a start and looked around blearily. After a moment, he sighed, rubbed his face, and sat up. Furiosa smiled at him, and he responded with a little nod and a thumbs up.

They set to work digging the car out and it took the better part of the day. Max grumbled to himself as he checked the engine while Furiosa swept as much dust as she could out of the interior of the car. Dog happily pranced around and occasionally wandered off in search of lizards.

It was afternoon by the time Max was satisfied that the sand hadn’t ruined his car and they continued their journey. By evening, the low hills had grown into steep escarpments. Max peered up at them as Furiosa drove. The golden light of the evening sun glinted off of the windshield and onto his face. Furiosa smiled to herself at the sight—despite the tan, weathered skin and the shock of white hair just above his left ear, Max looked positively young as he gazed up with wonder.

They parked and made camp at the top of a massive bluff long after the sun had set. The sky and land around them were a deep purple, but the stars seemed to shine brighter than ever.

As they ate their rations for dinner, Max said, “We’re getting close.”

Furiosa almost forgot that he had an ultimate destination in mind. So much time had passed since they had left the Citadel, she was just enjoying the time they spent together. “To the pelicans?” Furiosa asked.

Max didn’t say anything. Instead, he just smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

“Furiosa.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Furiosa could feel the familiar warmth of Dog up against her stomach and the hand pressed harder into her shoulder. The air was cold and felt damp. She pulled her blanket up to her chin.

“Furiosa, wake up.”

With a soft groan, she rubbed her face and opened her eyes to see Max leaning in front of her. He gave her a lopsided grin and then stood up. The sky was still dark above them, but a fine, bluish mist moved lazily through the air. She pushed her hair back from her eyes and sat up. It was dawn.

She looked to the sun and saw that they were parked close to the edge of a cliff. Down far below them, were soft rolling dunes and glittering… blue?

Furiosa stood up and the blanket fell from her lap. Her mouth fell open and she stepped forward to join Max at the edge of the cliff. He grinned at her and she gazed out in wonder.

“What…?” Furiosa asked, confused and in awe. She was unable to pull her eyes away.

“It’s the ocean.”

 

It took them two hours to drive down the windy path to the base of the cliff and over the dunes towards the ocean. Furiosa spent those two hours completely mesmerized. She couldn’t take her eyes off the blue stretching to the horizon. The sun was high in the sky by the time the dunes flattened out and met the water.

Furiosa barely gave Max enough time to stop the car before she scrambled out, pulled off her prosthetic, and dropped it carelessly in the sand. She walked stiffly down to the waves, still unsure if she should believe what she was seeing. Dog raced past Furiosa and stopped abruptly before the water touched her. Furiosa walked past Dog and the waves washed over her feet. The water was cold and soaked through her boots. Max stood next to her and their shoulders touched.

The noise of the water washing onto the shore was so foreign to her. There were so many new sights, and sounds, and scents that she had never experienced before. She felt as if she was on a completely different planet.

There were low brush plants that lined the beach and small birds darted across the sand. Larger birds with long beaks and great jowls flew lazily in the air. Max pointed at one and told her it was a pelican. Furiosa felt so overwhelmed. There were plants, and birds, and rocks, and things… and she dropped her head and cried. Max gently put an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

A pelican flew overhead and dove down to skim over the water.

 

\--

 

The ocean is a desert with it's life underground,

And a perfect disguise above.

Under cities, lies a heart made of ground,

But the humans will give no love.

          -A Horse With No Name, America

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and joining me on this ride. This was a really fun story to write and I hope you all enjoyed it. This fandom is extremely loving and inspirational and I feel certainly witnessed. So I hope I can continue to write and draw and ride eternal, shiny and chrome with the Max Max fandom. <3


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